First Thing's First
by acidic paper
Summary: PruHun drabbles - AU's & others
1. Clean Around the Wound

Erzsébet arrives unkempt at his tent, wearing men's riding clothes and boots too big for her to walk properly in. Gilbert thinks she stole them from Roderich but he doesn't press, doesn't want to mention his name, really, just wants to pull her close and forget.

She smiles and pulls of her hat, messy tangled hair falling around her and he wants to let his fingers catch in it. She laughs when she sees him laid up on a cot, one leg a little shorter than the other.

"Bandage is soaked through."

Gilbert shrugs as best he can and shifts to sit up to get a better look at her, watches her rummage through the sack beside his cot and pull out clean bandages. She's done this before, stitched him up and wrapped his wound with soft hands. (Though as soft as they may be, she's hardly ever gentle. She teases and smiles, pokes at his wounds and shakes her head when he grimaces. She was never one to pity his stupidity.)

His bandages stick as she unwraps them, blood starting to congeal and she wrinkles her nose but doesn't say anything. Gilbert wants to ask if it's bad, thinks he's just gotten used to the smell the days he's been in the small medical tent and it can't smell pleasant.

She hums as she rewraps his leg, oddly gentle this time. He struggles to find something to say and tries not to focus on her hands.

"We're good together, Erzsi," and he doesn't smile when he speaks, looks everywhere but those hands until his eyes catch on her messy hair.

He doesn't quite know what he's hoping for in return, but silence and a small smile aren't it. A nod, maybe, something to tell him she knows how good they are around each other, something to let him know she misses him just as much as he does when she's home with her husband.

He hates that word.

The word he'll never use with her, even if this one somehow ends, even if she finds a way out, because she hates that word just as much as he does and he could never hold her and tie her down like _he_ has.

She kisses him and threads her hand through his hair. It's stiff with something and he wonders if it's blood or mud but she doesn't pull back.

She leaves after the kiss and he just stares, watches her smile once more before slipping out of the tent and he hates himself for not saying something more.

He doubts she would have stayed though. She never does.

..

She isn't sure why, but she cries on the last leg of the journey home, both her and her horse tired.

_Next time_ she says, next time _I'll stay._


	2. We're Alright Now

It's Saturday night and Gilbert sneaks in through her window like he'd always joked of doing half blind. He'd scuffed his shoes against the window pain and smacked his head, but she just laughed and helped him through.

His smile is lopsided when he sits on her bed, showing his crooked teeth and his eyes squint when he does, the pink circling them disappearing behind white lashes. One cheek dimples and sometimes she dreams about kissing it at night but there's an uncomfortable knot in her stomach when she wakes up each and every time.

She isn't sure what she wants, but at the very least she knows she likes having him here, whether they're laughing or sitting in silence in the dark.

He starts to speak and she shushes him and covers his mouth with her hand. Her parents just a few walls beyond her own and Gilbert had never been too good about shutting his mouth. When she lets up, he huffs and tries again, softer this time if a little raspy like his words are stuck, struggling to come out all at once.

He closes his mouth and tries again and Erszébet knows it isn't what he wanted to say at first, but she listens. They were never good at poking or prodding or asking, really, but maybe that's why she likes this.

They sit like that, toe to toe on her bed, talking about nothing of importance, but things she knows she won't soon forget and it makes her smile as she picks at the strings on her ratty sleep pants.

Gilbert looks ridiculous in his sweatshirt; it swallows him, hood pulled over his head and bright messy bangs peeking under it. She leans forward, pushes it down and ruffles his hair and he shifts and twists under her hand and tries to push her away.

He tries pouting but a smile sneaks through and she just shakes her head and smiles back.

"_Idiot._" Her tone is soft when she says it though and she ruffles his hair one more time, leaving it even messier than before.

They sit there in quiet laughter, cold toes still touching and Erzsébet is sort of caught off guard when she thinks of kissing him here like this in the dark.

She doesn't hesitate much though, leans in before Gilbert realizes she's not trying to push him off the bed and it's all lips at first; they're dry and chapped but it's nice still.

They both pull away a little awkwardly, licking and touching their lips, barely looking at one another.

Her stomach doesn't knot this time around.

The second kiss is wetter, lips slightly parted and she can hear Gilbert taking quick breaths through his nose. She wonders if he's nervous.

She's never really known him to be unsure of himself though, not around her, and she doesn't mean to laugh but some part of her finds it sweet and a little ridiculous.

He pouts for real this time so she kisses him again but doesn't apologize for her laughter.

..

They spoon awkwardly that night, both a little too excited for sleep and nervous about what tomorrow means for them and _this, _but Erzsébet kind of likes his skinny hands on her waist, just above the band of her sleep pants and cold on her skin.

She thinks they'll be okay.


End file.
